Bull Session
by Simon920
Summary: The original Titans relax over pizza after a outing with Brother Blood. Just the guys and some down time.


Title: Bull Session

Author: Simon

Characters: The original five Titans

Rating: PG-13

Summary: After an outing, the kids relax over pizza and talk.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Unbetaed. Any mistakes are laid at my door and no one else's. 

**Bull Session**

"God, I'm starving…any of you guys want to get something delivered? Pizza?"

"Grayson, you would eat pizza for your last meal and you knew you were about to die. What about Chinese?"

The Titans, Dick, Garth, Roy, Donna and Wally had just gotten back from another go around with Brother Blood. They'd won this time, but there would be a rematch someday and they all knew it. That's the way it always was with these things. You fight, you win or you lose and then you play again.

Assuming that no one went down, that is.

This time they had been lucky and no one had been hurt. They also knew that wasn't something you could take to the bank every time and so they didn't talk about it too much. They just all knew they were doing stuff that most people would get killed doing.

That was OK. It was what they did. It was part and parcel of the job. They knew that, in fact that was part of the reason they did it when you came right down to it. It was a rush, especially when they won.

Well, maybe, anyway.

Besides, they weren't most people. Of course, none of them really thought that it would ever be them. They were still a little too young to think like that. They'd all lost people in their lives, usually violently, but somehow that didn't translate to it ever happening to one of them; not yet anyway. Maybe in a few more years they'd know better, but not now—now they wanted to hang out, let the latest encounter go, relax and eat pizza.

"We could order pizza and Chinese." Garth, always the peacemaker, always the diplomat. It had sort of become his role in the group—when he was around, anyway. The others, usually Roy and someone, would start butting heads and Garth, calmly and quietly, would say exactly the right thing to diffuse the problem. Evidently he really did have a talent for diplomacy. Maybe it was in his genes or something.

"That's too much food—oh, well, hell. Fine."

So the orders were called in, Donna decided that she was simply too tired and headed home so the four boys—the four young men—were left to get themselves cleaned up and changed into civvies. They'd been wearing the same clothes for two days now and they were all past due and then some.

Forty-five minutes later, showered and wearing sweats or jeans, the four young men were dishing out the food, sitting around the rec room and finally, finally able to relax after what they'd been doing the last couple of days.

"So, how do you manage it, Dick? I mean, we all know that you're anally compulsive, but how do you do it?" Roy was talking around pizza.

"Do what?"

"Be you. You know, the whole balancing act you do with being the back end of 'Batman and…' on one hand and 'Richard Grayson, Billionaire Bruce Wayne's perfect ward' on the other. How do you pull that off without nutsing out or killing someone?"

Wally joined in around a mouthful of pepperoni with extra cheese. "I've been wondering that myself, 'Boy Wonder'. Don't you ever just really want to flip Bruce off and sleep in? Maybe, I dunno—do something on a Saturday night that doesn't involve wearing Kevlar?"

"Hey, c'mon—he's not that bad, not when you really get to know him." Talking about Bruce always seemed to make Dick a little defensive; the others were used to it.

"Like anyone has ever really gotten to know him—you should hear some of the things Ollie has to say about him after he's had a couple of beers…"

Dick was beat from the fight they'd just finished and was working on about his last nerve. He was doing his level best to not lose his temper, but he knew he'd lose the fight if someone didn't change the subject to almost anything else. They just didn't understand Bruce, didn't understand the things he'd been through and the pressure he was under; hell, aside from being Batman and acting as the closest thing Dick had to a father for the last seven or eight years, he was also the head of an international corporation with thousands of employees depending on him for their livelihoods and a weekly paycheck. It was a lot to deal with. "Yeah, like Ollie is a role model for anything on the planet."

"Bite me, Grayson."

"Anytime, stud."

"Roy hit a nerve, Dick? Look, we all know the Bat has you on a short leash—hey, if that works for you, then more power to you." Wally started in his third piece. "It's just that none of us can figure out why you've put up with it this long, that's all."

"Because it works, that's why."

"Works for him—he gets slave labor and you get whatever the hell you get out of it."

"Screw you, West."

"I'm getting a little worried about you, you don't have a life outside of the spandex." Wally looked a little hurt. "C'mon, Dick, you know I didn't mean anything by that, but you gotta admit that it seems a little one sided."

Dick was starting to feel like this was getting to be too much like some kind of intervention or something; his dysfunctional life and the Bat's part in that. Well, hell—when you came down to it, it was like any family; you couldn't really understand it if you weren't actually inside of the thing. The guys may think they knew what was going on, but they were on the outside looking in and besides…

"Leave Dick alone. If whatever is between him and Bruce works for them both, then that's all that should matter."

"Jesus, Garth—what are you, up for boy scout of the year of something?"

Garth was sitting a little off to the side, the way he usually was and it was unusual for him to speak up with a conflicting opinion like this. He could generally be counted on to say nothing and just watch everyone else. All right, that was probably the reason why a lot of people thought he was—oh, hell, just say it—it was why a lot of people thought he was stupid, but the truth was that he was just quiet; hated confrontations and all of that. The more you got to know him, the more he trusted you; the more he opened up. In fact, over the last couple of years Dick had begun to think that Garth might be one of the brightest people he'd ever met. When you came down to it, he'd pretty much have to be to survive being condemned to death the same day he was born, abandoned as an infant and then raised by Arthur—of all people—in a city where he was considered whatever the Atlantean equivalent to an untouchable was. Garth might be the Titans member who'd had the roughest upbringing and God knew he'd had some real competition for that title.

"It's obvious to anyone who cares to look that the two of them are closer than most blood family members are." Garth reached for his bottle of water. "Sometimes I wish that…" He caught himself before he said anything more and trailed off, not finishing his thought, though it was obvious what he was going to say.

"You having trouble with Arthur again, man?" Roy knew—they all knew, that Garth's relationship with Arthur was rocky on a good day and on a bad day; well…Clark had intervened more than once.

Garth shook his head, his eyes on the table in front of him—he almost never complained about anything. "Just, you know—the same."

With Garth and Arthur that could be anything from totally being ignored to being locked in prison for some trumped up reason. Arthur wasn't exactly the role model for stable.

"That where you got that mess on your arm, Gil?" Even Roy was silenced by Garth's latest hint of some BS from the underwater home front. And yes, the half healed injury on his arm was impressive, extending from his wrist to disappear into the sleeve of his tee shirt. The closer you looked at it, the more it was obvious that it was worse than just a bad bruise; it looked like a healing but really nasty slash wound of some kind surrounded by a lot of really bad bruising. The marks from probably dozens of recently removed stitches were still raw and visible.

"I was just…clumsy."

"Sure you were, and I'm about to have a sex change." Roy reached for another can of beer. "What I don't get is why the JL hasn't stopped him from doing this crap—I mean, it's not like anyone there likes the man or anything." He popped the top. "What's stopping them?"

Garth's answer was soft spoken, like everything he said. "He really doesn't mean to cause me pain." He paused a moment at the look Roy gave him. "Truly. He just, well… Sometimes he forgets his strength." A small shrug, a helpless gesture. "He's my king…I owe him allegiance and, besides that, he took me in when no one else would. He was, he didn't have to do that." He knew better, it was more than just some misplaced gratitude. "Politics."

Of course. Arthur was—whatever else he might be—the head of a foreign nation and the surface world wanted to open up relations and trade. There was a lot of potential money to be made aside from whatever else the Atlanteans might have to offer and the surface nations didn't want to piss him off.

The silence got a little too long until it threatened to become really awkward.

"So what does everyone think about Donna getting married next month? You think it'll last?" Roy wasn't too subtle when he wanted to change the subject. "Me? I'm not so sure, if you really want to know."

"We didn't." Dick seemed to still be in a bad mood and Garth wouldn't ever say anything that smacked at criticizing anyone. Never happen, besides, whenever Arthur's name came up, Garth usually left the conversation for a while and sort of withdrew into himself.

"C'mon now. Terry seems like a nice enough guy, but Donna settle for a 'nice guy'? Get serious. She should be with someone—special."

Wally got up to snag another piece of now cold pizza. "What's the problem here, Roy? You jealous she picked someone over you?"

Roy looked at his beer. "Yeah, maybe a little."

Dick wasn't in the mood for this, not after he'd just broken up with Lori and Barbara wouldn't give him the time of day unless it was business…and if she didn't stop calling him 'Short Pants'—that really got on his last nerve. "So, what's going on with you and Ollie? You still have a place to sleep or did he change the locks again?"

"Bite me, Grayson—like you and the Bat are getting along so well now, right?"

"At least we're speaking."

"This week."

"Bite me, Harper." It was said without anger. They knew each other too well and too long for that. Besides, no one else could understand what it was like to be them. They all knew it and wouldn't really alienate one another if they could avoid it. They needed one another too much for that and they all knew it. "Is there any more pizza?"

"Plain."

"Whatever." It was starting to congeal; it didn't matter, Dick would eat anything that even vaguely resembled pizza. "I used to think that about Terry until we sat down one night and talked." He took a bite then spoke around his chewing. "The last time we got back from off-world, like three months ago? I made sure Donna got home safely because she'd hurt her knee, remember? Anyway, the two of us were at her place—well, their place and she was in the shower. I was making some food and Terry came home. We talked."

"He must have been thrilled to see you there when he walked in after her being away for a week."

"I didn't stay long, but yeah, he was annoyed. I thought that he handled it pretty well, all things considered. I told him she was all right, but that her leg would be stiff for a few days and he got really quiet, thoughtful and then instead of going off on me about putting her in danger, he started talking about how much he envied us—the four of us, because we shared things with her he couldn't. Then he said he was all right with that because no matter what else, he knew that he was her refuge. That was the phrase he used; 'her refuge'."

Garth looked up. "Yes, she said something similar to me last year. She told me how he made her feel safe." He smiled. "She seemed so pleased when she said that."

Dick nodded. "He said how he knew we didn't understand what she saw in him, that he wasn't sure if he got it himself, but they balanced each other." He finished his now cardboard slice. "I think he's okay for her. He seems to understand why she does this. A lot of people don't."

"We all have our own reasons. It's not like we all have the same agenda or anything." It wasn't like Wally to be introspective so the others usually paid some attention when he was. Well, usually. He caught Dick's eye. "I mean, I don't do this for the same reasons you do or anything."

Dick knew that and this was getting too heavy after what they'd already been through today. "So are you still seeing that same girl—Linda? Was that her name?"

"So far, so good."

"And…?"

"And nothing. I like her, that's all."

Roy wasn't about to let it go that easily. "You like her like how much? Are we talking you like her enough to go to a movie with her or are we talking you like her enough to think about what kind of ring to get?"

Wally gave this big self-conscious grin and it made him look more corn fed and Midwestern that even he usually managed. Then he blushed—amazing. "Actually I bought a ring about two weeks ago, I'm waiting for the right time to ask her."

"Wally?"

"Are you serious?"

"When did you decide this—think you could have maybe mentioned it or something?"

He still had that stupid grin. "Hey, I know, but you know what they say? That when it's right you just kinda know? Yeah, well—it's right and I just kinda know, okay? She's…" He trailed off, trying to think of the right adjective. "She's…amazing." It was a little lame, but it was heartfelt.

The other three looked from Wally back and forth to each other. He was a goner, head over heels gone in love with the girl and it was written all over his face. Seemed like they'd all be buying two wedding presents instead of one.

"Wally, man—that's great. You name the day and we'll be there."

Wally had this big smile on his face. It was like he'd just broken the best news; the best secret in the world and now everything in his life was perfect and would be like that forever. "I just have to ask her, that's all."

There was something in the way he said it that made Garth look up, a little confused. "Do you mean to suggest that there's some chance that she may refuse your offer?"

"Oh, no—not at all. It's just that, well, you never know, that's all. I mean, I know that I want this and I'm pretty sure she does, too, it's just that…man, if she turned me down I don't know what I'd do, y'know?" He rubbed his face, nervously. "If I could just come up with the perfect setting it would be a lot easier, but I just can't decide where…"

Lord, he made everything so complicated.

"Y'know, Bruce has this penthouse on the Champ d'lysee that may fit the bill."

"Ollie wouldn't mind if you used whatever he has."

"You could take her to my island out in the south Pacific—warm water, soft sand, tropical breezes, palm trees, water lapping." He had a half smile on his face as he described his personal paradise, enough so that the others wondered whom he'd shared it with and what memories he was bringing up—after all, Tula had been dead for almost five years now. He must have—well in five years he must have seen someone. Hadn't he? It wasn't like he'd taken a vow of chastity anything.

Wally looked over at Garth; this had potential. "Who else would be there?"

"No one. You'd be alone. In fact, you'd have to bring a tent, it's undeveloped."

Wally looked shocked. "You mean—we'd be alone? You mean like no one else would be there?"

"Well, um, yeah." Garth looked like he was wondering if Wally had lost a serious number of brain cells.

"But, we're not married and if there's no one there with us, she might think I have plans to…you know…"

Uh-huh, right. Garth realized whom he was speaking to. "…I, um, I wasn't suggesting that…Of course. It could look like…I wasn't thinking, Wally, you'll have to forgive me."

"But—would you, you know—would you, with a girl you weren't married to?" Wally looked a little confused and a lot scandalized about the whole concept.

Dick and Roy had trouble holding in the guffaws, Garth tried to keep a straight face. "Um, no, of course not. Never." He took a breath. "You could bring her parents with you, just to make sure nothing untoward happens."

"Hey, yeah, maybe that would work."

"And you'd have to bring two tents then." Roy couldn't resist.

"Right." Wally had this thoughtful look on his face, considering his options. "I'm going to do it!" He slapped Garth on the shoulder. "I am—this time next week I'll be an engaged man. Garth—I owe you!" And he was gone. Poof, headed off to an all night sporting goods store to find the perfect tents and leaving his friends looking bemused.

Dick broke the logjam. "So, Garth, just wondering here. You wouldn't consider taking a young woman to a deserted island would you? I mean unchaperoned? Just the two of you with the moonlight and the surf under a swaying palm tree?"

Garth stood up, collecting paper plates and pizza boxes. "I'm scandalized you'd suggest such a thing and I'd like to think you'd never seriously entertain such thoughts—either of you."

They were smiling. Never. They'd never suggest something like that. They had images to maintain. Kids looked up to them. They were busy with important work. They were role models, after all.

Roy and Dick started gathering the rest of the rubble from their dinner, the cans and the Chinese containers. "So, do you guys think he was serious about being a virgin? I mean, that's basically what he was saying, you know. You think?" Roy looked at Dick for an answer since he was the one closest to Wally all these years.

"I've never actually asked him, but I'd say there's a pretty good chance." Dick was collecting the cans for the recycling.

Roy seemed a bit amazed at the idea. "Huh…whoda thought?"

Garth paused for a moment on his way into the kitchen. "I take it that this is unusual for someone his age up here? Do you think he'd be upset if he found out that he's probably the last virgin on the planet over the age of fifteen?"

Dick brushed past him in the doorway. "I'm not going to be the one to tell him." He dumped an armful of cans into the bin.

Garth was folding the boxes so they'd fit into the cardboard place better. "Well, I'm not going to do it. Roy? This sounds like something more up your current."

"Uh…pass. Which isn't to say it wouldn't be pretty funny to see his face, mind you."

Dick seemed like he was ready to call it a night. Or go back to the cave to start round two for the evening with the Bat. You never knew with him. "He'd probably get pretty upset, guys. Go easy on him, will you? I mean, this is Wally we're talking about here. He's sorta…conservative."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed, Grayson." Roy was pulling on his jacket; it looked like this party was over.

Garth moved over to the stairs, probably to hit the pool for the night. A lot of times he'd just sleep there with some pillows on the bottom. He turned back to his friends before closing the door behind him. "Besides, think of the fun we can have opening his eyes when we throw him a bachelor party."

3/3/05

9


End file.
